The Sunstone Brooch : Time Travel Romance by Katherine Logan (i am reading a book TXT) 📕

Remy twirled one of his drumsticks. “Glad I brought a book to read. No TV, no laptop. And you and Ensley are almost eye-fucking, so I’m on my own.”

“Don’t be crude.”

Remy almost sprayed out the whisky he was drinking. “Me? You’re the crude one, and it’s hard to believe, but your language is worse than Rick’s.”

“Penny’s made him clean it up. It’s not so bad now, and mine’s getting better.”

Remy shrugged. “Whatever. So what’s your game plan?”

“Wine and dine her and see where it goes.”

Remy sat up and put his feet on the floor. “I finally figured you out, O’Grady. You’ve been fucking with the whole family. You’re not on painkillers, and you’re not an asshole. You were, right after the accident, but not now. You haven’t bugged me for painkillers in twenty-four hours, and I think you were palming them anyway. So what’s the deal?”

Austin ignored him while he poured a drink. “I know you tell Elliott everything. All I’m asking is that you don’t mention the painkillers for a few days. Give me time to talk to JL and Kevin first. I owe them that much.”

“What about your Dad?”

“I’ll invite him out to the ranch and talk to him after I talk to Elliott.”

“I hate to tell you, but if JL knows anything, Jack knows. If Jack knows, Charlotte knows. If Charlotte knows, Elliott knows. So how the hell are you planning to keep it from Elliott for more than two hours after you tell JL?”

Austin ran his fingers over his scruff, making a scratching noise. “I don’t know. Ask her to keep it to herself for once.”

“Impossible, but I have a question. Why’d you want everyone to think the worst of you?”

“I was mad, frustrated, and sick of all the interference. I was busting my ass to make a comeback and going cold turkey, and the pressure from the family was messing with my focus. So I cut everyone off. It was easier. In hindsight, it probably made it worse, but…” He smiled, thinking about Ensley. “If I hadn’t been an ass, Pops wouldn’t have insisted I come on this trip, and I would have missed getting to know Ensley.”

Remy upended his glass over his mouth to catch any remaining drops before heading back to the liquor cabinet for a refill. “You’re not stepping on JC’s turf, are you?”

“I don’t think so. They’ve known each other for a decade and never pursued a relationship. If Ensley has feelings for JC, she’ll let me know. Short of that, I’m going for it. I might crash and burn, but I gotta do it.”

Remy refilled his glass and clinked it against Austin’s. “If you want me to get out of the way, just send me a signal.”

“Once the train leaves the station, we have orders not to leave it. So if it works out, cover your ears.”

Remy clinked his glass against Austin’s again. “I doan expect a detailed report, but if there’s anything you feel like sharing, I’m all ears.”

“I’ll either have a smile on my face, or I’ll be begging for painkillers to help me survive the rejection.”

Remy slapped him on the shoulder. “Forget it. I know the truth now. You’re on your own.”

“Shit. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

“Austin,” Ensley yelled. “Where’s my drink?”

Austin made a fake jump shot. “Three for O’Grady.” Then he poured Ensley’s drink and whistled his way out of the drawing room.

Remy drummed his stick on the top of the liquor cabinet. Ba-dum-CHING.

50

The Train (1885)—Ensley

Ensley stripped out of the clothes she’d worn for weeks and kicked them into a corner. “Ugh. Gross.” She should throw them away but knew if she did, she’d just dig through the trash and salvage them. They were so dirty they could stand up on their own, but she had an emotional attachment to the clothes that she couldn’t break—yet.

If she soaked them in the tub overnight, maybe the filth would wash out.

She rolled up the jeans, blouse, and underwear, tucked them inside the jacket, then tied the sleeves together, making a tight bundle of stinky clothes.

From the window, she caught a glimpse of the shining black hulk of a locomotive. It was slowly backing up to their car. She braced for the coupling, and the force pitched her onto the bed. “Well, damn.” She gripped the headboard, waiting for the train to jerk forward, which wasn’t nearly as bad. The conductor blew his whistle, and the train picked up speed. They were finally on their way to Kentucky.

Now she needed something to wear while she unwrapped packages.

At the foot of the bed was a lightweight blanket. She shook it out and wrapped it around her like a Turkish towel. Then she relaxed in a tall-back occasional lounge chair. It seemed like the first time she’d been able to sit down and take a deep breath in days…or weeks. Her life had been in survival mode since the day she arrived here. And except for those evenings with TR talking about books and history, this was the first time she felt completely safe.

In front of her was a lifetime’s worth of Christmas presents. She’d never seen so many packages in one place at one time. There were hatboxes, shoeboxes, and a dozen or more coat-size boxes. She didn’t have the energy to go through all of them, but she had to find something to wear after her bath.

The first few she opened had silk and cotton dresses in earth tones, with ruffles and high collars that would create body-hugging silhouettes with narrow shoulders and tight sleeves. Gorgeous clothes, and if she wasn’t so tired, she’d try all of them on—after her bath—even the corsets, petticoats, and bustles.

She glanced at the dresses draped over the furniture and spotted a two-piece chestnut brown silk outfit with a long peplum bodice trimmed in brown and blue-striped floral brocade, pipe stand collar and cuffs, and brass buttons. If